


Aftermath

by wraithkeeper



Category: White Collar
Genre: Aftermath, Airplanes, Episode: s01e14 Out of the Box, Fire, Gen, Gen Fic, Trauma, Wordcount: 100-1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-22
Updated: 2011-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-15 21:01:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/164901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraithkeeper/pseuds/wraithkeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Neal doesn't stop struggling until after the sirens have covered Peter's words and the fire trucks have pulled to a stop." Set immediately post Out of the Box. Gen, other than the same implied Neal/Kate seen in canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Elrhiarhodan's Promptfest V. The prompt was: Neal - Blow Up

Neal doesn't stop struggling until after the sirens have covered Peter's words and the fire trucks have pulled to a stop. The firemen don't do anything. They jump off the trucks and just stand there, readying the hoses to spray down the fuselage. No one dons full protective gear to brave the fire, no one rushes into the plane to look for survivors, no one even tries to save Kate.

The plane is so engulfed in flames that there's no longer any metal left visible. Even when Neal closes his eyes in defeat, the flames fill his vision, their terrible light burned into his eyelids. All the fight that has possessed Neal leaves his body when he sees that even the firemen have admitted defeat. They don't even bother checking for survivors inside the fire consumed wreckage. It's too late for that.

Neal sags against the tarmac, Peter's weight still pinning him down, hands gripping Neal to prevent him from running into the fire. Peter slowly releases him, like he half suspects this is just a ploy to escape, but when he looks down at Neal's face, he knows the young man has given up. Kate's gone. Peter kneels beside Neal's prone body with only the contact of a steadying hand on his shoulder. The tears spill down the sides of Neal's face and fall to the asphalt unchecked, leaving stark trails through the blanket of ash on his skin.

The ash and snow fall together, drifting to the ground lazily. It's almost beautiful, and Peter wishes it wasn't. There shouldn't be anything beautiful here to belie the tragedy. But there is. Peter closes his eyes like Neal and wishes to go back to yesterday.


End file.
